


Silent Night

by NoScrubs12345



Series: tis the season [6]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 23:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoScrubs12345/pseuds/NoScrubs12345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto and Jack share a quiet moment in the Hub</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Night

**Author's Note:**

> For [awdt](http://awdt.livejournal.com/)'s 2008 Christmas advent challenge. Day six: "Christmas parties."

“I should tidy up,” Ianto says quietly but only moves to rest his head against Jack’s shoulder.

Jack chuckles and wraps his arms around Ianto, pulling the Welshman to him. He rubs his forearm and kisses Ianto’s hair, lips lingering as he breathes in the subtle scent of shampoo and something undeniably _Ianto_. He pulls away only to lean back against the arm of the couch, holding Ianto tight against him still, and surveys the remains of their impromptu Christmas party.

There are pizza boxes stacked haphazardly on Gwen’s desk, Christmas crackers strewn across Tosh’s old workstation and an army of empty plates and a half-eaten cake on the coffee table in front of them. He ignores it and lets his hands drift down Ianto’s back, rubbing slowly as Ianto sighs and shifts in an attempt to get more comfortable.

“Jack,” he mutters, protesting half-heartedly as he settles against Jack’s chest.

“Everything can wait ‘til tomorrow,” Jack says and untucks Ianto’s shirt.

Ianto sighs as Jack slips a hand under the soft material, Ianto’s skin warm against his. Around a yawn, he says, “Matter of principle.”

“Yeah, well, that’s overrated,” Jack whispers and takes as deep breath, relaxing further into the couch and holding Ianto tighter. “Get some rest.”

“We should go to bed,” Ianto says, nuzzling his nose against Jack’s chest. “Sleeping on this old thing can’t be good for anyone’s spine.”

“Neither is sleeping on that camp bed, though you’ve never complained about that before,” Jack teasingly reminds him with a laugh; he smiles as he looks down at Ianto, lashes dark against his pale cheeks and his mouth turned upwards in a contented smile. “Anyway, I think someone’s too tired to move.”

“It’s been a long day,” Ianto murmurs and toes off his shoes, letting out a contended sigh as they fall to the floor. As an after thought, he adds, “A long week, actually.”

Jack laughs quietly and cards the fingers of his other hand through Ianto’s hair.

“That it has,” he says, feeling Ianto’s breathing even out as sleep takes him, the only sounds the trickle of water down the tower hiding the Rift Manipulator and the hum of the computers. Jack closes his eyes, floating somewhere between slumber and wakefulness as the hours tick quietly by, Ianto a pleasant weight against him as they, content to be near the other, hold each other close.


End file.
